Stepping Out From the Shadow of the Father
by Lady Willamina
Summary: Diverging version of 5.03. Chapter 3. Arthur's confusion about magic comes to a head as he is forced to preside judgement over a young boy who has used his power to save the life of somebody Arthur cares deeply about.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N. In this story I want to explore Arthur's thoughts during the events of the episode 'The Death Song of Uther Pendragon'.  
The first chapter takes place just before the old witch, who is named Valdis according to Merlin Wiki, gives Arthur the Horn of Cathbhadh.**  
**In my version of the story, the village leader accuses Valdis of something other than what happened in the original (spreading sickness using magic). I have made this change so that Arthur's views upon magic can be challenged to a greater degree.**

* * *

Merlin studied Arthur closely as he made another adjustment to the cloak that was wrapped around the old witch they'd just rescued from the enraged villagers; the tenderness he observed touching him deeply. Despite both the warmth coming from the camp fire beside her and the insulation provided by the red fabric, her bony frame still trembled with the cold.

Merlin rubbed his hands together thoughtfully, his gaze moving from the recumbent woman to his King. Once the initial adrenalin rush had worn off and he'd had a moment to reflect upon what had just happened Merlin couldn't help the flush of pride he felt for Arthur burst within him.

'Well,' Merlin began, raising his eyebrows in mock horror as he spoke. "That was something I thought I'd never see; the King of Camelot, no less, demanding the release of a suspected magic user!"As he watched his friend closely for a reaction, Merlin thought back to the obnoxious, narrow minded youth he had come across that very first day he came to Camelot.  
"I mean, you do realise you've just completely gone against everything you were taught about witches don't you? About how evil and dangerous they are?"

Arthur sighed and raised a brow in melancholy.

"Do you really think this feeble old woman is a danger to the people of Camelot Merlin?" Arthur gestured toward where the slight figure lay, still shaking weakly. "Even _you_ could overpower her Merlin!" he added sarcastically.

The action he had just undertaken was effectively a rejection of all he'd learned at his father's side and its significance was not lost on the young King. Merlin could see the tension lines in Arthur's face and the momentary stiffening of his shoulders as he replied and recognised the jibe for what it was; Arthur's way to keep things in a sphere where he felt comfortable with them.

The fire continued to crackle beside them as Merlin shifted a little before he spoke again, the warm orange glow shone into his face and revealed the earnestness in his eyes.  
"It seems to me Arthur, that you are finally emerging from your father's shadow and allowing yourself to act in a way you know in your heart to be right."

Arthur turned his head to the side so that Merlin could not see him properly and allowed himself the hint of a smile. It was absolutely ridiculous to even care what a servant thought but somehow the approvals of Merlin (and of his beloved Guinevere) were the most important things in the world to him.  
"Perhaps ..." Arthur started, staring off into the darkness solemnly, "If there is anything i've come to learn over my time as King these past few years Merlin, it's that my father wasn't without fault." He turned back to the fire so that his facial expression was once again visible to Merlin.  
"Don't get me wrong Merlin. My father was a great King and I miss him dearly but I think sometimes his," Arthur squinted and pulled his lips back in thought as he searched for the right word, "his _passion_ prevented him from acting justly."

Merlin stared at the king with a mix of wonder and delight. Had his friend and associate-in-destiny finally reached the point where he may be able to see magic for what it really was? A picture flashed through Merlin's mind of himself sitting Arthur down and telling him about his long hidden abilities. For so long he'd worked toward this point; overcoming set back and loss to keep on going. Now that he seemed to sit on the very precipice of a monumental shift, Merlin felt the air tingling around him as though his own magic sensed the magnitude of Arthur's words.

"Could it be possible that he was wrong about magic?" Arthur continued, rubbing his brow as he struggled with his ideas. "The Druids only ever acted against Camelot because they were forced to due to my father's orders against them. What if it's the same for those with magic? Maybe I've only ever experienced anger and viciousness at their hands because of the relentless violence with which they were pursued?"

Merlin's mouth almost dropped open as he heard Arthur's words.

"Where did all this come from Arthur?" Merlin asked in an astounded voice. He had no idea that Arthur was even capable of viewing the actions of his father to be at fault; much less that the oblivious prat could have such an awareness of what others were suffering. "Surely you didn't just come up with that since this morning?"

"No Merlin, of course not," Arthur retorted condescendingly.

Not long after Uther had died, Arthur had begun to read accounts of Camelot's past history, figuring it was part of his duty as the ruler of the kingdom to know what had come before him. The sheer brutality that has been projected onto anyone known to possess magic and anyone who knew or associated with them, was not a complete shock to Arthur but the scale of the genocide and the complete absence of justice involved, was a jolt to his knightly sensibilities.

Little wonder he had been a target for their vengeance time and time again.

Mistaking Merlin's shocked expression for that of confusion, Arthur tried to explain himself again.  
"Imagine Merlin that there was another group of people, another Kingdom for example that attacked and killed another, just for who they were. Let's assume it to be those of Pendragon lineage for purposes of my explanation. Furthermore, anyone who showed any sort of kindness toward the family or did business with them was also convicted and slain. Would it not be understandable that any Pendragon who managed to escape such slaughter would wish to avenge their fallen kinsmen?"

Merlin continued to stare at Arthur with wide eyes. Realising that Arthur was expecting an answer he managed regain his senses enough to respond.  
"I suppose so."

"Not that that excuses all the evil that has been done toward Camelot and my father and I. But it certainly gives a different perspective doesn't it?"

"Certainly does." Merlin guffawed, giving a wry shake of his head.

"I no longer believe that all those with magic are inherently evil Merlin. This woman," Arthur tilted his head downward. "The villagers were going to burn her for fixing a child's broken limb. How can it be wrong to stop an innocent from suffering?"

Unable to form a reply, Merlin shrugged. A quiet descended the glade again, broken only by the crackling fire. Arthur had been expecting more than that and found Merlin's lack of words disquieting. After a few moments he could contain himself no longer.

"It's not like you to keep your opinions to yourself Merlin," he chided his friend. "I'd value your opinion greatly on this matter." Arthur's voice had dropped and he was looking toward the man beside him with a very expectant and earnest expression.

"Well," Merlin began awkwardly, wiping his palms of his hands on his trousers nervously. "I can't tell you what to think Sire but obviously you've been doing a lot of research and thinking and maybe you trust the conclusions which you have made."

Arthur peered at Merlin with deep concentration. His brows were furrowed and his eyes glistened with anticipation as he digested Merlin's words.  
"But what do you think Merlin?" He asked exasperatedly. "Do you believe magic can ever be anything but wicked? Is it possible?"

Merlin tilted his head to the side, gathering his answer together. Should he tell Arthur the truth or was it still too risky? Once before Arthur had been on the point of allowing magic back into the kingdom again and Merlin had pinned all his hopes and dreams onto those words only for it all to blow up in his face. Should he place himself at risk of such pain again?  
"Arthur," he began, and then quieted again momentarily. "I think... I don't think that every person who possesses magic wants to cause harm Sire. I know in the past many Healers used magic and I think that, well, that there are people around today who would use their magic for good. If they were allowed that is."

Arthur reeled back from the fire and stood abruptly. Merlin watched him closely, worried that he's just committed the direst of treason's. He felt his heart racing in his chest as Arthur drew his sword, the metal screeching as he pulled it from the scabbard.

"What have I done?" Arthur's anguished voice cried as he used all the strength he could muster to throw his sword into the ground a few metres away. "How many people have died needlessly because I never questioned the teachings of my father?"

Merlin jumped to his feet, the pain in Arthur's voice and the way he stood - hunched and beaten - breaking his heart.

"You can't undo what he has already been done Arthur." Merlin began in a soft voice, placing a hand on one of his King's shoulders gently, "But you can stop any further injustices."

Before they had a chance to speak further, the old lady came around from her disturbed slumber and tried to sit up. Arthur rushed back to settle her again while Merlin retrieved a water skin from the horses.  
"Just lie still. You're safe now." Arthur reassured. "Try to sleep a little more."

"Very soon that is all I will do Arthur Pendragon," the witch whispered. "Just listen for a minute. I have something for you." From beneath the folds of her tatty clothing the old lady produced a horn made of ivory hung upon a chain which had seen better days.

It was many years ago - over 20 years in fact - that the grey haired Druid had given Valdis the sacred Horn of Cathbhadh and told her that she'd know who to give it to when the time came. While doing further research on the item, Valdis had learned that the next person destined to put it to use was the Once and Future King. A deep calmness settled upon the old lady as she realised the time to carry out her foretold future was upon her.

* * *

**A/N: Perhaps the witch heard Arthur's words and that's why she trusted him with the sacred item?****At the beginning of the episode I loved the way Arthur and Merlin jumped in without hesitation to save the old lady who had obviously been condemned to burning due to witchcraft, but it seemed to be a bit of a bolt out of the blue. There had been no indications prior to this that Arthur had changed his view on sorcery so why was he so adamant that she be saved? Sure, he's big on justice and wanted to give her a fair trial but could it have been more than that? I like to think so because really, by this stage in the progression of the show, Arthur should have been very close to accepting magic. Then we might have actually gotten to see Merlin get what he worked so long and hard for; freedom to use magic again in Camelot and acceptance for what he truly is.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Throughout the earlier series it was clear how much Arthur craved and valued the approval and affection of his father. Exploring where that relationship is now, four years after Uther's death, is quite revealing.**  
**This chapter begins after Uther has been sent back to the other realm. As in the original, Uther launched his vengeance upon Arthur's loved ones and made it very clear he thought his son was a failure as a King. Unlike the original, the Horn of Cathbhadh has not been put into the care of the Druids but has been locked in a vault under the castle.**

Arthur had been quiet and withdrawn all morning and despite Merlin's best efforts to humour him out of it, his melancholy would not lift. He knew for himself how crushing the weight of destiny and expectation could be and figured that perhaps his friend just needed a little time to come to terms with what his father had said to him. It cannot have been easy for him to see how cruel and brutal the ghost of his father was, nor to hear how much he had disappointed him.

Merlin sighed, deciding to leave Arthur to brood in peace for the morning. Before he left he made one more attempt at rousing Arthur from his depression.

"Is there anything else you need Sire?"

Arthur remained at his place staring out the window and barely seemed to know Merlin was even present.

"Well, I'll just go then shall I?" He questioned. "Maybe I'll spend the day in the tavern?" Merlin added in a desperate attempt to get through to his friend. Merlin sighed again when there was still no sign of recognition or chance in Arthur's stance. He'd all but given up hope but just as he reached out toward the door handle, the King finally broke free of his self imposed prison.

"My father said I'm failing the people; that the decisions I make put Camelot in danger." Arthur twisted around so he now faced back into the room. The self doubt that had crept in since Uther dealt his condemning attack was evident in Arthur's face. "Maybe he's right Merlin?" he stated quietly in a voice completely devoid of his usual swagger or self assurance.

Merlin strode across to where his friend now stood. He had initially hoped that Uther's frenzy and deranged actions may have cemented Arthur's earlier notion of acting independently of the belief's he'd been brought up with. It seemed however that even from the dead, Uther Pendragon could wield his power over Arthur.

"Arthur, don't say that. You are a just and strong King who always puts the welfare of his people before himself. You have to have more belief in yourself." Merlin gazed intently into Arthur's pale blue eyes, searching for some signs of the confident man he knew was in there somewhere.

Arthur pulled his gaze from Merlin's and continued to avoid eye contact as he spoke.

"But he is right isn't he? I endangered Guinevere, Percival, Elyan and you all because of my selfish need to see my father once more." Arthur rubbed at his face in agitation. "That accursed horn! I should not have used it; Gaius told me it was a thing of magic! I should have known better."

"No Arthur! What your father said to you was unfair! Your own judgement is sound." Merlin continued urgently. If he did not get through to Arthur now, the chances of him softening his stance upon magic may be lost. Scratching his head in thought, Merlin took another step toward Arthur.

"I know how much you have always sought his approval Arthur and it must have wounded you more than anything to hear his dissatisfaction but you need to put those feelings aside." The irony of giving that advice to a man that had had to hide away any emotion that could be construed as weakness for his whole life was not lost on the secret Warlock.

"Look at what you have achieved so far? You've formed alliances that he was unable to in his time as King and you are surrounded by knights you can rely on and trust completely. You recognised them for what they are not for their birthright."

"I wasn't such a great judge with Agravaine was I?" Arthur cynically interjected, collapsing into his customary chair at the dining table.

"That was different." Merlin shook his head, taking a seat too. "Agravaine had welded himself so sneakily and convincingly into Camelot's council that Uther would not have seen through him either."

"No, I need to be tougher Merlin." Arthur had his palms pressed down onto the surface of the ornate wooden table and Merlin could see his fingertips turning white. "This whole episode has been a reminder of what I need to be doing," he continued, his grasp on the table like that of a man searching for purchase upon something permanent and solid. He looked up into Merlin's face before he continued. "The people need guidance and leadership and that is what I must give them."

Merlin eyes went wide as he realised what he was hearing and his heart plummeted. Arthur's acceptance of magic which had seemed so close it was almost tangible just a few days ago now seemed a million miles away.

"So, what you said when Valdis gave you the horn; what you said about magic?" He asked  
fearfully. "You said you father was partly to blame for why those with magic target you, surely you can still see that..."

"Enough Merlin!" Arthur harshly broke in, rising to stand and glaring down at Merlin with a fierce coldness. "There will be more talk of magic." Arthur took a few strides back to the window before he dismissed Merlin with another order. "Now go and finish with my armour!"

Merlin stared at Arthur's back as he tried to work out whether he really had done a u-turn or if this was all just a consequence of his father's harsh words. He debated with himself whether he should speak up and even opened his mouth to form words. At the last minute he decided it was a bad idea. When Arthur was in a mood like this there was getting through to him.

* * *

The next few days went by with King and man servant barely communicating beyond the necessary required for Merlin to do his job properly. The words of his father had wrapped themselves around Arthur like a vine strangling a tree.

Gwen, Merlin and those knights closest to him could only watch helplessly as he retreated further and further away from them. Guinevere had confided her anxieties to Gaius and Merlin. Apparently the couple was no longer sharing a bed and Guinevere knew that Arthur was having nightmares. She was beginning to wonder if her husband no longer loved her.

The word_ nightmares_ did not begin to describe the horror and rejection Arthur faced at the hands of his tormented sub conscious every night. Each dream began the same; him standing within the Stones of Nematon and summoning Uther from the spirit world. A bright light blinded him momentarily before the figure of his father finally emerged, as large as life but as pale and foreboding as any ghoul. Arthur's torment thus began.

"You've failed me Arthur! My legacy has been destroyed by your weakness and incompetence!" The sinister apparition yelled cruelly. "Your mother gave her life so that you could live Arthur and what have you repaid her sacrifice with?"

The dream version of Arthur tried at first to counter his father's words but always ended up reduced to tears, begging for forgiveness and for his father to love him once again.

"Father please!" he sobbed in desolation. "I've only ever done my best! Please father!"

His childish need to feel wanted and approved of felt so real during these dreams as to be almost physical.  
The pain did not fade when he managed to wake himself either. He'd taken to sleeping alone as the screaming and cries he woke himself with were too embarrassing and the tears streaked down his face further humiliating.  
When awake, Arthur hid his inner turmoil as best he could, building walls around himself so that nobody could see in. He conducted his Kingly business with efficiency and kept all other contact down to a bare minimum.  
A few times Merlin tried to get through the carefully built barricades but Arthur would have none of it.

Merlin was plummeting into despair himself. He would never, ever give up, on Arthur and his destiny but it had gotten to the point where he had no idea what to do.

The events another week or so later that involved a youth accused of magic and brought before Arthur for judgement, seemed to do what Merlin could not.

**A/N;** **I first began to like Arthur, as a person, when he showed sins of weakness and vulnerability. It showed that he was more than the arrogant prat he first appeared to be.**  
**Thanks to everyone for reading and I hope you like angsty Arthur cause there will be more ahead.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N; Thanks to everyone who is reading, following and reviewing.  
There is no Merlin or Arthur in this chapter (sorry!) but the events that occur will cause Arthur even more angst!**

The knights of Camelot spent many hours practicing on the training field at the front of the castle. Almost every morning of the year the men ran through their paces, perfecting their foot work, familiarising themselves with the weight and balance of their own weapon, learning to predict the likely moves of an opponent and fine tuning their sparring techniques. No man could become a master of the broadsword if he did not commit himself to it's mastery in body, mind and soul.

Training accidents were no rare thing, which is hardly surprising given the vigour, testosterone levels and dangerous weapons that were involved. Usually it was something relatively minor like a pulled muscle, twisted ankle or superficial cut. King Arthur and Sir Leon were stringent about the men wearing their chain mail whilst training, even though it was heavy and uncomfortable. The possibility of injury to a knight without armour was just too high to risk, furthermore, it was bad enough to be wounded in battle, much less during friendly rivalry.

It was a combination of exhaustion and bad luck that almost brought about a horrible accident on that cloudy and cool morning and it would assuredly have been fatal if it hadn't have been for the presence of a youth who possessed some rather special skills.

Adwr, a second cousin of Sir Leon, was a blond headed boy of roughly 14 summers old. As was tradition at that time he had been employed as Sir Leon's squire since he reached his 12th summer. All was going well; he was learning fast and seemed to be making friends amongst the other squires. Adwr was a dedicated worker who did everything asked of him and had earned himself an affectionate place within the circle of knights that Leon was closest to.

Not bad for a child who had not spoken a word in over three years.

Sir Leon had explained when Adwr first arrived that around a year beforehand his family home had been set upon by bandits seeking riches and all his family and their loyal servants were killed in cold blood. It was believed that Adwr had witnessed it all from his hiding place below the floor boards. The shock and horror had been so traumatic for the boy that he had not spoken a word since that time. The relatives that had taken the boy in at the time were convinced he would never recover his full wits but Sir Leon was determined to give him a chance. Perhaps, given time, he would find his voice again some day.

No-one really understood the extent of the grief and guilt Adwr suffered since the day of the attack. The feeling that some, if not all, of his family would have survived if he has been brave enough to use his magic out in the open tormented him and he still punished himself for what he perceived to be his cowardice, everyday. The treatment he'd received at the hands of his Great Uncle (who had taken on guardianship of the boy) only convinced him of his worthlessness even more.

When Sir Leon had agreed to take him in, Adwr was desperately scared that he would fail once again, fortunately though, good fortune had finally smiled upon the boy. Sir Leon was a far more compassionate man than his Great Uncle had been and with the knights unending reassurance and encouragement Adwr began to see that he wasn't as hopeless as he thought. As the years went by, Adwr reached a stage where he felt worthy again and he knew he owed it all to the man who had bothered enough to give him a chance.

It was because of this dedication and affection Adwr felt toward Sir Leon that he deliberately put his own life at risk to save that of the knight.

* * *

Training was winding down for the morning and many of the knights had already headed back to the armoury to clean and stow their gear. A few others stood around watching the remaining bouts, talking and laughing jovially.

Gwaine had been late to practice, not an unusual event for the laconic knight, so was still some minutes from being able to call it a day. He and Sir Percival were currently engaged in an intense although friendly rivalry where by each man was trying to prove to themselves (and to the other knights) that they had superior skill with the various weapons used in close combat; sword, mace, flail and dagger. Whilst it was widely acknowledged that Percival was without match when it came to hand to hand combat and that Sir Gwaine was second only to the king in his abilities with a broadsword, neither man had the upper hand when it came to the flail.

The flail was not an often used weapon amongst the Knights of Camelot, except in melees. It consisted of a foot long wooden or metal handle with a short length of chain at one end to which was attached a spiked metal ball or many sided star. Generally, it was bandits, brigands or mercenaries who favoured this vicious piece of equipment as it required significantly less time to perfect its usage compared to the sword, depending more on brute strength and timing.

Gwaine swung his flail in a wide trajectory in an attempt to land a blow around Percival's shield but the large man was able to predict what was coming due to the width of his opponent's stance and the way he shifted all his weight to the right. All it took to nullify the blow was a minor outward movement of his shield.

"I saw that coming Gwaine.! Step it up!" He cajoled, enjoying the look of frustration on Gwaine's face.

Gwaine muttered something about a 'big lump' before he launched his next assault. This time he feigned a blow coming in from the left, hoping to draw Percy's shield aside so that he could strike effectively from the following rightward swing. Alas, Percival was too quick again and his goading of Gwaine was joined in by Sirs Elyan and Pellham from the sidelines.

Tiredness and frustration were catching up with Gwaine by now and after a few more of his carefully thought out strategies failed, he threw caution aside and attacked his opponent recklessly, smashing his weapon into Percival with so much vigour that he pushed him backward toward where Sir Leon was patiently tutoring Sir Mordred. Neither of the later  
were wearing helmets as Sir Mordred, much to his mortification, wasn't yet judged skilled enough to use a properly sharpened, fully weighted sword.

Sir Pellham called a warning to Gwaine and Percival regarding the proximity of the two other men but neither heard it above the noise of metal on metal. At this point, none of the people present foresaw any imminent danger so no-one was terribly concerned. Gwaine's movements were becoming less fluid as he grew exhausted and he put all he had left into another attempt to outsmart his opponent. When he felt the jarring of his flail upon Percival's shield yet again he swore loudly then threw his arm up and back before bringing the flail vertically downwards with all his might. Percival ducked to the side evasively but the unfortunate knight who now found himself lying helplessly in the path of the swinging flail had no time for such manoeuvres.

It was nothing more malevolent than a patch of mud that had been Leon's undoing. One moment he was shouting instructions to Mordred, encouraging the young knight to take control of the bout and force his opponent to move in the direction he wanted, then, within a heartbeat he was lying on his back staring up at the gruesome spiked head of the flail coming at full speed toward his face. There was no time for his life to flash before his eyes or to regret that he hadn't done a more thorough check of the ground's surface; the only thought that ran through his mind was that he was, quite probably, about to die!

While Sir Leon desperately willed his muscles to move, his squire, who had been watching very closely from near the sword wrack, felt something shift within himself. Without any conscious attempt the magic he had for so long tried to keep at bay suddenly began to writhe and swirl within him before bursting forth like a torrent of water. Adwr felt everything momentarily spin wildly around him before rapidly coming to a halt, leaving him as the only animated thing in existence. Those more knowledgable about sorcery would have recognised how Adwr had instinctually stopped time, not requiring a spell or even a direct mental command. The next piece of magic the boy did however, was done with deliberation and clear intent.

Acting quickly and without regard to himself, Adwr turned the thrum of his magic to the ground at his feet where a shield lay abandoned in the grass, picking it up and sending it across the turf on a cloud of golden energy. When it was within a horse length of his cousin, Adwr carefully guided the shield with subtle movements of his right hand, so that it was in the correct position to take the full force of Gwaine's flail.

All this happened within the blink of an eye and once Adwr knew Sir Leon was safe, time resumed it's regular rhythm with a nauseous jolt, almost as though his magic had been able to sense his relief. Suddenly it was all noise and movement again; people shouting warnings from either side of him, Gwaine's cry of horror and the crash of the flail into the shield.

The thud that sounded as the shield fell impotently to the ground was the starting signal for the maelstrom that followed.

Audible gasps were intermingled with nervous exclamations about sorcery and evil. People glanced around at each other nervously, not quite knowing what to do next. The loud shout of a peasant who had brought a pail of water over for the knights to drink, drew the crowd's attention to Adwr.

"It was 'im! His eyes were glowing gold I swear!" The toothless man squealed as he pointed a grubby finger toward Adwr.

When he had recovered from the initial shock of escaping death (again), Sir Leon did his utmost to calm the situation, proclaiming his trust in his cousin and arguing that if Adwr had magic he would surely know of it. Lacking any other explanation and adhering to Camelot's strict laws regarding the investigation of any suspected sorcery, Leon had to concede the argument. It was with a mixture of anger, sadness and wonder that he watched two burly guards accompany Adwr to the dungeons.

* * *

Leon tossed and turned restlessly all night. Adwr's fate was to be determined in a hearing tomorrow morning in front of the King and other members of the High Council and Leon feared the worst.

He had initially regarded the peasants accusation of magic as ridiculous. The man was obviously extremely poor and perhaps he'd hoped for some sort of reward if he pointed out an 'enemy of the kingdom'. But then again, a metal shield cannot move of it's own accord so witchcraft was the only explanation.

But Adwr? Surely he would have known if one so close to him had magic? Beside that, the lad was virtuous and gentle which was far from what he had been taught to believe about sorcerers. They were all corrupt, evil, power hungry devils weren't they?

Leon's mind whirled with confusion. The truth was, he'd began to doubt such teachings long ago. Never would he forget how the magic imbued vessel known as 'Cup of Life' had been used to safe him from certain demise. Cenred and Morgause had also employed that very same vessel in a much more sinister way with destruction, death and power their ultimate goals. In this case it was the nature of the person (or persons) using the Cup that determined whether the magic it contained was used for good or evil. Carrying on with this logic, perhaps it wasn't the possession of magic that determined a person's goodness or otherwise no more so than their hair colour or town of birth?

Leon did not realise it at the time but it was a series of very similar conundrums that Arthur was wrestling with himself at the moment. The Kings struggles however, were rendered even more complicated and difficult by the nature of the relationship he'd had with his father and his ever longing need for parental approval.

**A/N; I hope my OC had enough depth so that you, the wonderful reader, could feel for him!  
All opinions and feedback are greatly appreciated!  
There is a fic called "Intentions' by Lynse that was posted a few days ago which also has a child accused of magic brought before Arthur. Some similiar themes are covered, albeit in a differnet way and with a totally different plotline. It is definately a good read so far!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N; Arthur's confusion about magic comes to a head in this chapter as he is forced to judge a young child who has used his magical power to save somebody that Arthur is very close to.**

Early the next morning, two guards brought Adwr up to the Throne Room where he was made to stand before the king. He had spent the night in Camelot's dungeons and despite the blankets and food that had been brought to him by the knights, he was cold and tired. Leon had visited him once and spoke about the goodness he knew was in Arthur's heart. He implored his young cousin not to despair and promised he'd beg for mercy on his behalf if it came to it.

Adwr kept his eyes deliberately upon the floor in front of him, being too scared to look up at his surroundings. If he had looked up, he would have been met with the intimidating sight of the King and Queen seated upon their high backed, grandly carved thrones with all their most senior advisors spread out on either side. The sun shone down through the high windows on the eastern side of the room, bathing the men in a pale golden light which made their faces appear harsh, flat and entirely without compassion.

Leon stood off to the side of the room and he winced audibly as he watched Adwr being brought in for judgement. His cousin looked so small and miserable as he was propelled forward that Leon had to use every ounce of his self control not to run to his aide. He had not realised that he'd become quite so attached to the boy until now and from the way a few of the other knights near him reacted, he wondered if he was not the only one. Adwr had come to him damaged, suffering and desperately in need of care; sparking all Leon's paternal instincts to encourage and protect him. Seeing him reduced to the shivering, terrified boy whose fate was, once again, to be decided by others, was one of the most painful things he'd ever experienced.

When he was knighted so many years ago, it had been the proudest day of Leon's life and never once since that day had he any desire or reason to be anything but completely loyal and steadfast to his sovereign. Would today be the day he had to choose between the fealty he'd sworn to the King and the welfare of his family?

A few meters away Merlin stood beside Gaius, doing his best to stay calm. Even after all the 'trials' he'd been forced to attend, his heart still hammered away uncontrollably as he watched his dream of a future where he would be free to be himself, move further out of reach. He clenched his hands nervously, feeling how sweaty his palms were.

Looking at the solemn visage of the King, one could be excused for believing that Arthur felt no such inner turmoil and difficulty at the judgement he was about to carry out. Those who know him intimately might however have recognised the unnaturally stiff way he held his upper body or the almost compulsive need to keep touching the ring that sat upon his right thumb. Merlin was one such party and as his gaze went from Arthur to Adwr and back again, he hoped the faith he placed in his King would not be proved ill placed.

Arthur looked down at the boy before him as he listened to the accusations read out by Geoffrey of Monmouth.  
"The Squire Adwr was seen to commit an act of magic on the training field whereby he gave motion to an inanimate object. This man here," Geoffrey looked down his nose at the poorly clothed man standing behind and to the left of Adwr, "who is known as Paddy, saw the boy pointing toward the object with eyes alit in golden light. A number of knights also witnessed the incident Sire, although none can attest to the indications that the boys change in eye colour provided."

Arthur sat stone-like upon his throne, doing his best to appear as confident and strong as was usual for him, however, the admonitions of his father had eroded his self belief more than he would ever admit. Adding to that, the ideas that he'd discussed with Merlin, about magic not being innately corrupt, further plagued his sense of guilt at failing Uther. If there was one thing that was sure to disappoint the now departed Pendragon, it was this wavering in commitment to his father's life long work of eradicating anything and anybody magical.

As he gazed down upon the tear streaked, pale child before him though, Arthur was torn between the need to please his father and what his heart was telling him. He'd seen Adwr in action as Leon's squire and had been impressed by his initiative and attentiveness. Once, as he'd watched him struggle to carry his master's suit of armour back to the armoury, Arthur had been reminded of himself at that age; Adwr was of a slighter build but he had similar colouring. When a gauntlet slipped from his grasp and landed at Arthur's feet, he remembers coming face to face with the boy as they both bent to retrieve it. He'd had a chance to study his face deeply and saw within it only innocence and pain. There was absolutely nothing about him that suggested he was a danger Camelot.

The first person asked to speak was Paddy, the eye witness to the crime. While clearly trying to withhold his excitement and sense of importance at being before the entire Council, Paddy eagerly told how he happened to be at the training field at that time. He then went on to detail what he had seen occur.

"I seen the shield flying' through the air and then stop right on front of Sir Leon's face Sire. I knew it had ta' be magic Sire; couldn't be nothin' else could it? Then, I looked 'round and him, the boy there," Paddy pointed to Adwr who still had his eyes glued to the floor, "his eyes was glowin' all gold."

Paddy shook his head as he ruminated on what had happened. "I know magic is wrong and everythin' but I reckon that knight would've had 'is face smashed in somethin' awful if the kid hadn't done nothin'."

There were a few snorts of disgust from where the Lords were seated in response to the peasant's sentiments and usually Arthur would have probably reprimanded him, advising him to stick to his witness account and keep his judgments to himself. Right now though, he was too conflicted to bother.

"Sir Leon," Arthur spoke to his most trusted knight. "Please tell us in your own words, what took place yesterday."

"Sire," Leon began thoughtfully. "I was sparring with Sir Mordred and suddenly, I slipped and..." Leon lowered his eyes in embarrassment at the lack of caution that had almost led to disaster; as Arthur's second-in-command, safety on the training ground was his jurisdiction. "Well, I found myself staring into the oncoming head of a flail. It all happened so fast Sire. I am most sure that if my cousin hadn't done ... what he did, then I would be dead or at the least, grievously injured."

Arthur sighed heavily as he listened.

"Your Highness," a grey haired noble interrupted from the right hand side. "What the boy used his magic for is not the issue here. If magic was used, the laws of Camelot have been broken." Lord Hardigan had been a staunch supporter of Uther's back in the day and took it upon himself nowadays to ensure that his legacy lived on. He had kept quiet when Arthur did nothing to censure the peasant for the treason he had spoken, but he would not stand for any further weakness. Uther would never have let such a thing go by.  
"With the greatest of respect to Sir Leon," Hardigan grimaced obsequiously, "the knight has a vested interest in the boy. Surely his judgement should not be taken into account?"

Merlin studied the proceedings closely; his eyes moving from Leon's face then back to Arthur's as he tried to read was going on in the King's mind. Arthur had clearly heard Lord Hardigan's words, but chose not to respond. Did he agree with the old Councilor or was he strong enough to say what he really felt? Merlin knew in reality it wasn't that simple a choice but when it came down to it, the child would live or die by what the King decreed.

"Adwr, would you look up at me," Arthur commanded in a voice that was both authoritative and gentle. "Do you understand what is going on here; that you have been accused of magic?"  
Adwr slowly tilted his head upward until his blue eyes met that of the King and although he made no sound, his fear was clearly evident in his face as he nodded his assent.  
"And the charges against you," Arthur continued stiffly, "Do you admit you used magic?"  
The air in the overcrowded room was thick with anticipation and all eyes were upon Adwr. Time seemed to almost stop as Arthur clenched his jaw and braced himself for a confession; for a confession would surely give him no option but to carry out a sentence.

As Arthur stared deep into Adwr's eyes, he felt himself being drawn away from his present circumstance. His stomach seemed to rush up into his throat as all of sudden he found himself seeing things from Adwr's perspective; memories crashing into him and then receding like waves.

_He heard the screams of terror and pain from his mother and sisters as they were cruelly murdered and felt the hideous pit of guilt and self hatred that swallowed him up afterwards. The loneliness and despair that sucked away all Adwr's confidence and smothered him like a thick, black cloud felt real to Arthur, even though he was still safely in his throne. Then, he saw the bright walls of Camelot and Leon and the knights entering the boy's life and slowly, slowly the sun started to shine again. He felt hope shimmering within Adwr's heart again as he finally began to forgive himself for not acting to save his family._

_With another jolt, Arthur saw through Adwa's eyes, the sight of Leon - the man who had brought him life again - die from a grievous wound as he, once again, chose to keep his magic a secret rather than reveal himself and save someone he loved._

Just as quickly as they came upon him, Adwr's memories fled and Arthur found himself sitting once more as ruler and judge of Camelot with the pale faced boy nodding his head as he stood trembling in front of him. And at that moment he knew why Adwr had done what he did, furthermore he agreed with his actions entirely.

"Arthur?" Gwen's worried voice brought him back to reality. She had a hand on his arm and was intently into his face. When he blinked to clear his vision and looked around the room, it seemed all eyes were upon him. "You were shaking. Are you alright?"

Arthur still felt disoriented and confused by the visions, or whatever they were. Added to his inability to sleep and the anxieties that had been wearing him down since he had brought Uther back from the underworld, it was all becoming too much to endure.

Gwen was not the only one to realise that Arthur was not well. Merlin was only too aware of how strung out his king was at the moment and when he saw the flickers of distress that flashed across Arthur's face - even though they were only minute - and saw his right arm shaking as he clutched onto the armrest of his throne, he made his way forward toward his king. By the time Gwen was asking her husband whether he felt well enough to continue or not, Merlin was right there beside Arthur, ready to steady him or catch him if he so needed.

At first Arthur carried on with his charade; pushing away both his wife and man servant as they fussed at him but Merlin saw through the bravado and pretence. Even King's had a breaking point and Merlin knew in his heart that if he did not get Arthur out of the pressure cooker of the throne room right now, that breaking point would be reached. In a series of frantic whispers, Merlin, Gwen and Gaius decided to remove the King to his chamber's under the excuse of a sudden illness.

The Queen announced that proceedings for the day were over as Merlin and Gaius hustled Arthur out of the room and at the behest of her agitated husband she proclaimed that judgement would not be passed until the king was fit to do so.

In her heart, she prayed that would be very soon.

It took a strong dose of Gaius' most potent relaxant to calm Arthur's agitation and although Merlin was relieved when fatigue finally overtook the king he knew it was only delaying the inevitable. If Arthur did not sort through the conflicting tangle of obligations, expectations and beliefs that were driving him into such a dark state very soon, he may never beome the proud, strong King that destiny forsaw. And even though he had no idea how to help his friend defeat the demons in his head, he vowed to stay by Arthur's side throughout his struggle however long or arduous it may be.

**A/N; Does Arthur does seem a bit OOC here? Considering the way he's ben brought up, i think that for Arthur to start to change his views on magic would be very traumatic; Uther's hatred and distrust of magic formed the basis of his exisence for so many years after all.**


End file.
